


Coming Home

by sithsecrets



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Coming Home From Battle, Dirty Talk, F/M, Injury, Kissing, Relationship Discussions, the inherent eroticism of patching up someone's wounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24329149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sithsecrets/pseuds/sithsecrets
Summary: Kylo Ren comes back to his wife after being wounded in battle.---“I’m fine,” Kylo replies shortly, tiredly. He begins to strip out of his soiled clothes, kicking down his pants after he takes off his boots, pulling his shirt over his head with difficulty. Only then do you notice the weeping gash on his side.“Stars, Kylo, what is that?” You’re sure he’s getting sick of all your questions, but the wound looks awful. It’s bleeding, and caked with dirt, and you know your husband well enough that he hasn’t had anyone look at it since he got back.“It’s nothing, it’ll be fine.” Kylo usually doesn’t talk to you like this, usually isn’t this curt, but you don’t let it hurt your feelings, given the circumstances.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	Coming Home

Since you married Kylo Ren, it’s always been your custom to wait for him to make it back to your shared quarters before you go to bed, _especially_ if he’s due back from a mission on a foreign planet.

You aren’t sure why you feel like you have to wait for him. It’s not like the two of you are deeply in love (your marriage had been purely political, an agreement between the Order and your rather large, powerful planet), but you would feel wrong saying that you don’t care for Kylo, either. You don’t necessarily worry about him when he’s gone, but… it’s not like you don’t think of him while he’s away.

If you get to the core of the issue, really, you guess it’s because you feel a sense of duty as his wife… or something like that. All you really know for certain is that you have a lot of feelings about your husband, and every single one of them is confusing and hard to define.

So, that’s why you sit here, perched in a chair in your quarters, waiting for Kylo Ren to come through the door. It’s very late, well after midnight, and your body screams for sleep. But word was sent about an hour ago that Kylo and the Knights of Ren will be home shortly, so you refuse to so much as lay down without seeing him first.

Dozing off more than you’re reading, you scan the novel in your hands idly, absorbing absolutely none of the information on the page. But then the blast door slides open behind you, and you’re out of your chair in an instant, fully awake now.

Kylo looks absolutely horrible. He stands before you, caked in blood and dirt and stars-know-what-else. The smell of it all mixed together on his skin and clothes is repulsive, and you do your best not to gag as you take in how filthy and exhausted your husband looks. And Kylo has to be exhausted, completely rung out, because the look on his face has you thinking that he could collapse any second now.

“What happened?” you ask, voice low and strained. This has never happened before, not in the whole three months you’ve been married, and you don’t know what to do. You aren’t accustomed to this, the fighting and the violence— the _aftermath_ of it all.

“The Knights and I were ambushed as we left the planet,” is all Kylo says, offering no details as he limps towards the ‘fresher. He sets his lightsaber and helmet down as he goes, barely paying attention to the way you’re rushing after him.

You have so many questions, cannot even begin to understand why a seemingly friendly planet would allow him to be attacked, but you know that none of that matters right now.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Kylo replies shortly, tiredly. He begins to strip out of his soiled clothes, kicking down his pants after he takes off his boots, pulling his shirt over his head with difficulty. Only then do you notice the weeping gash on his side.

“Stars, Kylo, what is that?” You’re sure he’s getting sick of all your questions, but the wound looks awful. It’s bleeding, and caked with dirt, and you know your husband well enough that he hasn’t had anyone look at it since he got back.

“It’s nothing, it’ll be fine.” Kylo usually doesn’t talk to you like this, usually isn’t this curt, but you don’t let it hurt your feelings, given the circumstances.

Watching in horror as Kylo goes to turn on the bathtub faucet, you cover his filthy hand with yours. “You absolutely cannot get in the bathtub like this! You’ll just be sitting in your own filth, and it won’t make you clean.”

All Kylo does is sigh heavily, standing there in his underwear as his side keeps bleeding. He’s seemingly too tired to think, too wiped from the violence he’s just endured to make decisions, so you do it for him.

“Get in the shower while I call a medic to attend to you,” you command, and it feels strange to dole out orders to a man with the title of Supreme Leader.

Kylo stands there looking at you long enough to make you think he’s not going to listen, but then he starts walking to the shower, kicking off his underwear as he goes.

Back in the living room, you call for a medic, describing Kylo’s injuries to the best of your ability. The medbay says that they’ll send a droid right away, and you begin to wait, trying to calm your anxiety with a few deep breaths.

The medical droid puts stitches in Kylo’s side, working and leaving without a word. When the machine’s gone, Kylo stands again, stumbling back into the ‘fresher as you follow him. You know that he hasn’t cleaned himself off properly, just washed off the worst of the grime, but you don’t chide him again as he goes to fill up the large bathtub sitting in the center of the room. Eyeing you uncertainly as the water begins to rise, you realize that he’s waiting for you to leave before he takes off his (now clean, thankfully) clothes again.

“Let me help you bathe,” you say, because you know he’s exhausted. Besides, you don’t want him to pull his stitches apart or make himself bleed again, so it would be best if he didn’t have to move more than necessary. Kylo doesn’t say anything in reply, just starts undressing. You avert your eyes until he’s stepped into the bath, kneeling beside the tub when he’s settled.

There’s an air of shyness about Kylo as you begin bathing him, and you can understand why. When the two of you married, you’d barely even spoke to one another before, let alone displayed any physical affection together. This made the consummation of your marriage a rather awkward subject, but it happened after a few weeks. You and Kylo naturally understood the importance of such an action, given your political backgrounds, so you mutually decided it would be best to get it over with. The two of you have had sex a few more times since then, but always in darkness. As strange as it sounds, you’ve never seen your husband naked, only felt his body with your hands.

You take care not to hurt Kylo as you wash him off, gently rinsing away the soap with your hands as he watches you. It makes you nervous, the way Kylo’s eyes follow your every move, but you force yourself not to be affected by it.

“Close your eyes,” you say softly, squeezing a bit of shampoo onto your palm as you do. Kylo does as you say, moaning lightly in the back of his throat as you start washing his hair.

As you massage Kylo’s scalp, he seems to relax, sinking down further into the warm bathwater as you work.

“It was a shitshow,” he murmurs, eyes still closed as you begin to rinse the soap out of his hair.

“I know,” you say companionably, even though you don’t. “Were there any casualties?”

“We killed out attackers, but none of the Knights were harmed too badly.”

Kylo’s eyes flutter open as you’re finishing his hair, and you blush when you realize that he’s eyeing the way your nightgown drapes over your chest. “You know,” he begins, “if I weren’t so tired, I’d pull you in here with me.”

Your face burns at the thought of that, and you duck your head, shocked at your husband’s forwardness. Every time the two of you have sex, it’s initiated by a certain kind of touch— the caress of an arm after the lights go down, Kylo grabbing your thigh under the covers, you running your fingers down his side. Neither of you ever talk about wanting the other so bluntly the way he is now; you never talk about sex at all, really.

“I’ll get you some clothes,” you say, dodging the subject.

Kylo’s out of the tub and mostly dry when you return with some clothes for him to wear. The only help he’ll take is with putting on his shirt, and you can tell his side pains him as he struggles to lift his arms for you. Still, he gets his clothes on anyway, and the two of you go back to the bedroom.

“Your nightgown’s wet.”

Kylo’s voice startles you, makes you flinch. You’d been turned away from him when he spoke, fussing with putting a few things away across the room. He’s perched on the bed when you turn around, sitting back on his hands in a lazy sort of way, just looking at you evenly. When you glance down, you find that he’s right— there’s a large patch of water on the front of your clothes, and you hadn’t even noticed.

“Oh,” you say softly, realizing that Kylo’s likely trying to get you to undress in front of him. He didn’t splash you intentionally in the ‘fresher, but it’s easy to see that he’s not exactly saddened by the notion of you having to change.

You wonder what’s gotten into your husband as you turn back to the dresser, digging out a fresh nightgown to put on. It’s strange that he’s being so suggestive, especially given his injury and how he was just attacked, but you can’t say that you hate being lusted after like this.

Slowly, you slip your wet nightgown off, taking your time unfolding the clean one as Kylo watches you, seemingly transfixed. Before you can redress, Kylo crosses the room, crowds you back against the furniture behind you. You feel exposed, wearing nothing but your underwear now, but the way Kylo kisses you wipes your mind completely blank. He’s kissed you before, of course, during your quiet lovemaking sessions in the dark, but not like this. This is passionate, deliberate, _hungry_ kissing, the kind of kissing that makes your cunt twitch.

“I’m too tired to have you tonight,” Kylo proclaims, speaking in a low voice as he presses kisses to your throat. You make a dejected noise, one that breaks into a moan as your husband pulls you flush against him. “But I promise to make it up to you tomorrow if you’ll indulge me with your patience.”

All you can do is nod weakly as Kylo runs his hands down your exposed body, yelping when he grabs a handful of your ass.

“I can wait,” you affirm, almost lightheaded from the sensation.

You’re lying through your teeth.


End file.
